


Prison of My Own Making

by OpaqueXApathy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk (TV), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Estranged Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpaqueXApathy/pseuds/OpaqueXApathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place in the comics shortly after Logan went from short(er), hair(er), and 'slightly' more feral - the X-men and Xavier have literally put him back on his own two feet but his progress stymies. Out of options, they turn to Dr. Banner whom Logan once had a relationship with fleetingly in the past. But Banner still deals with loving him, losing him, and being forgotten. And returning isn't an easy path to take for either of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prison of My Own Making

**Author's Note:**

> *Note* This is a pretty big combo of movies meets comics. There's a lot of traits I like about all of them. Also Bill Bixby (see The Incredible Hulk '70s TV series) will always be the one and only Hulk for me; plenty of references to be had in the upcoming chapters.

The snow was falling, crisp and white, before Dr. David 'Bruce' Banner reached his temporary Manhattan apartment on a small, city block corner mostly populated by warehouses and the occasional storefront. But while the crime rate was a bit on the high side it suited his purposes fine and was reasonably quiet as well. These days, or any days for that matter, Bruce preferred his life to be as quiet and as peaceful as possible. And once his newly issued fake ID was finished and all his paperwork was done, he'd be looking for more of that elsewhere. With a much lower chance of being mugged.

 

For him it was less his life he was concerned about but others. Even a mugger or a low life criminal who might otherwise deserve it. For Bruce, nothing justified unleashing the Hulk. And if he had his way that would never happen again. Not in his lifetime anyway. Something that was proving almost insufferably long and by the looks of it, wasn't seeming to shorten very fast. He should have been dead and gone a thousand times over and not just from natural causes. That seemed to be a luxury he couldn't afford but life was still a blessing. And maybe someday, just someday, he'd find a cure.

 

 _Then_ he could live out the rest of his days in true peace. Then he could look forward to aging more naturally, maybe loving with the relief of not having the constant threat of harming them over his head. Settle down, a career, a family.

 

Bruce gave a soft, gentle sigh as he turned the lock to his apartment and stepped out from the cold hallway and into the relative warmth of his living room. That would be the day.

 

“Good morning.”

 

It was a wonder Bruce still had the ability to be startled. But the warm, cultured accent that greeted him from his living room calmly had done just that. It was only when he recognized unmistakably the man sitting in a wheelchair equally between the living room and the kitchen that he relaxed. There was no mistaking the most powerful telepath on the planet.

 

Bruce let out a breath, willing his heart to slow, and shot the man an irritated look as he shut the front door behind him after taking the key from the lock. “Haven't you ever heard of knocking?”

 

“You weren't home.”

 

“Ah.” Bruce smiled, but it lacked a lot of real humor. It was hard for him to find much of that these days. While his life was sometimes frequented by good people and colorful moments that made somehow all the pain seem bearable – that hadn't happened in awhile.

 

“I am sorry for the intrusion Bruce but it was very important that I speak with you.”

 

And without saying, it was cold outside. Hardly the place for an aging man in a wheelchair to wait. And with that thought Bruce's hospitality and compassion reasserted itself a bit, previous annoyance somewhat dwindling. But he didn't want to hear what the man wanted. He didn't want to hear anything to do with someone needing his help or another offer to join the X-men or the Avengers. Working with either group had given him the only gray hairs his mostly lack of natural aging hadn't given him.

 

“Can I get you some coffee?” Bruce asked, heading to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

 

“Bruce...” the soft hum of Professor Xavier's wheelchair as it powered forward filled the gap in his brief pause. “It's Logan.”

 

Coffee absolutely forgotten, his stomach flipping solidly in his abdomen, the former scientist set the ceramic mug in his hand down harder on the table than he'd intended before. Not enough to be loud but in the silence that followed – it was loud enough.

 

Memories came to him unbidden, feelings following not a heartbeat behind in a rush of familiarity – pain, love, loss and happiness. Each as uncontrollable as the last. The name of the man in question never ceased to do that to him. When one mention, one implied possibility that he could actually be dead this time or worse, could send his heart fluttering painfully in his chest and leave him to question, even as profoundly trained in medicine as he was, that the mere notion of the man just might kill him. And no matter how much he tried to dull the feeling, leave it alone, or just let it rest – one name, one mention of that name, and there it all was again. Just as fresh as the first time.

 

“He hasn't...-” Bruce badly attempted at some levity, rationalizing with himself that while it had to be bad if Xavier was here and now, talking to him of all people... this was Logan. “-discovered something that can actually kill him has he?”

 

“No.”

 

Bruce relaxed marginally, fixing blue eyes with an equally steady stare of his own. “Than what is it?”

 

Xavier's gaze was just as steadfast and Bruce appreciated when he didn't allude to anything but instead got straight to the point. “A lot has happened to him in the last five years and I believe it's all lead to a... domino affect of sorts to current his mental state. We found him three years ago today wandering in the woods of Canada. Far further up north than he usually travels. We wouldn't have known it was him at all if not for certain... lingering residual features.” Xavier took a picture out of his pocket and pushed it over to him from across the counter.

 

Bruce picked it up, something akin to shock and disbelief crossing his expression as he stared at the picture he found in his hands. Not even human the creature could be called, held in the X-man's arms known as 'Beast', staring back at the camera apathetically from a face caveman like and feral. His stature considerably shortened he appeared no larger than a medium sized dog, nose apparently entirely missing, jaw overdeveloped, long arms hanging down from where he was held, clawed hands relaxed and equally too big – just as his feet and thighs appeared to be. It was like he'd 'de-evolved' into what Bruce could hardly even guess as to what. Or who for that matter.

 

“We've managed to rehabilitate him over the course of the past year to this state here.” the professor pushed another photo over to him and Bruce could scarcely believe the difference. “However we've reached a wall of sorts. His progress has stymied considerably, to the point where I fear we can take him no further. He can't speak, he still exhibits an animalistic language entirely unique to him, and his behavior is still largely unpredictable and feral.”

 

The picture in the left looked next to nothing like the one in his right. The creature that Logan had been, whatever it was, was gone in the left – replaced by the man Bruce knew or thought he knew and had once loved. Hair up swept and so black that it carried violet undertones, layers of muscle on a short, compact frame – the same rugged features, stance and posture. The same face. Certainly nothing like the one on the right. But there was still something wrong. Something Bruce couldn't place. Even as normal as he looked, something was definitely off.

 

“Why...” Bruce cleared his throat and tried again, “Why come here? To me.”

 

“You knew him before Weapon X. And you knew him after. That is something that none of us share with him. Not even myself. I believe that connecting point may be what is necessary for him to cross the final boundaries he seems to have reached into the final stages of rehabilitation.”

 

Bruce wanted to be upset. All he could do was stare at the man in some immature mix of resentment and pained resignation. What he said made a terrible amount of sense but his heart, as much as it wanted to rush to Logan's side, rebelled. They'd had a long history, him and Logan, but the last time he had seen the man...

 

It had been 1983. It had been snowing then too. Bruce would never forget meeting the eyes of a man who apparently had never met him. Eyes of a man he'd loved, shared more with than any soul on the planet, even more than his first wife. Memories, love, layers of emotions all apparently forgotten. Only coldness. And a complete lack of anything they'd ever shared.

 

Weapon X had taken all of that away from them. But it had taken much, much more from Logan. Bruce at first hadn't understood. He'd tried to argue, reason with him, and all he'd received from his former lover was accusations that he was crazy. The rest of that time over the years was strained. Bruce had decided that whatever they had shared was dead. The man he had known had died, killed by a sadistic team of men that had stripped his mind to only their doing, bent them to their will until he'd rebelled and destroyed them. Even the memories in his head were false and they'd left room for nothing else.

 

The winter of 1983 was the last time Bruce had ever seen him face to face besides strained encounters across an Avengers' briefing table. And he'd promised it would be the last time for good. Life had not made that easy and upsetting in it's hardness.

 

“I'm sorry but I can't help you.” Bruce said at last, pushing the pictures back across the counter at the professor and turning away towards the fridge.

 

“You still love him.” Xavier said softly, a moment later.

 

“That doesn't matter professor. He doesn't remember me. Which makes your theory that I could be the key to his rehabilitation pretty moot doesn’t it?” Bruce asked, determined to be objective. Hearing himself however he realized he only sounded cold and injured. A man feebly trying to mask decades of pain.

 

He turned away from the fridge, dismayed to find a complete lack of anything alcoholic. But that was his own doing.

 

“Logan has regained some memories. You know this.”

 

“Yes.” Bruce said curtly. But not of them. At least he hadn't said.

 

“Than they must still be there. Even if he doesn't remember everything it doesn't change the fact that you connect two points in his life, past and present, that is otherwise lacking. Bruce...” Xavier drew in a breath and fixed him with a calmly intelligent look, leaning an elbow on the arm of his wheelchair. “Even if there is the slightest possibility that you could help in any way, can you actually refuse him now?”

 

“I'm not refusing him, I'm refusing you. Now I'd like you to leave.”

 

“He doesn't have the capacity to ask Bruce. But I'll leave you to your decision.”

 

Bruce couldn't find a thank you.

 

Professor Xavier did as he asked and Bruce held the door for him on the way out. But he felt absolutely no measure of satisfaction as he closed it behind him.

 

 

Professor Xavier, self appointed mentor to the X-men for years longer than he had ever suspected possible, greeted one of his students with an appropriate air of resignation as he reached the end of the handicap entrance ramp to the old Manhattan apartment building now behind him. Ironically the elevator had been in a state of disrepair but fortunately for him Bruce's apartment had been on the first floor.

 

“He said no?” the man asked, ruby red glasses meeting his eyes impassively.

 

Scott Summers, now a man of thirty five, was one of the first students to join Xavier's institute. In turn he was also one of the first of his students to join the X-men and in many ways Scott was the son Xavier had never had. And a dear friend.

 

“As I suspected but still...” Xavier accepted Scott's help into the car, taking his hand into his own and reaching for the door handle with the other. “I had hope.” he finished as he slid into the passenger seat, accepting his blanket from Scott's waiting hands after he adjusted his legs.

 

The man in question settled his usually serious expression into an even slighter frown. “In a lot of ways I don't understand professor. But on the other hand I guess I do. That hasn't stopped Kurt though.”

 

“Yes.” Xavier murmured in agreement, thinking to the teleporter that had in many ways saved Logan's life in numerous ways – in more ways than one. When he had heard news of Logan being found, he had come back at once to try and assist them and now he was quite possibly the only one that truly understood the feral man. The rest of them could hardly explain it but the two could hold an entire apparent one sided conversation, animal and man, while everyone else watched on in confusion. Even Xavier himself with his telepathic abilities didn't understand Logan that well.

 

“Now that is one relationship I don't understand, professor.” Scott said, joining him in the car – shutting the driver's side behind him as he prepared to drive them back home, to the institute.

 

“That makes two of us.” Xavier smiled, thinking fondly back at Logan and Kurt's long and extensive history. While the two had had a relationship at one time, and an amazing one at that, there had been unsurprisingly issues. Mostly with Logan and his own reasonable fears of intimacy. Life had pulled them apart in the end, the strain of missions, events in all their lives that were too much for even the strongest of couples. Even Scott and Jean.

 

Well... perhaps especially Scott and Jean.

 

At any rate, the two had settled into a friendship that far surpassed any usual bond. It was solid and unwavering. So Kurt had proved when he had left his studies in Germany, his life's work as a priest, to come back to the X-men and to Logan to try and help them mend his shattered mind. He hadn't left his side since.

 

When they returned to the mansion the falling snow had painted the landscape in stark white. It was serene and peaceful. Something they had had more than usual lately but not in overabundance. Still Xavier was appreciative for that much at least.

 

Unlike the outside, it was warm and inviting inside the mansion. Even the lower levels felt slightly less chilly than usual compared to the winter bite that was steadily descending on New York.

 

“I see you lack a certain Dr. Banner.” Storm said from within the garage doorway, the weather witch's expression disapproving. But only slightly. While many thought of Bruce as their friend and sometimes on and off again teammate, they had all been expecting him to return. Xavier was expecting a lot more disappointed faces by the time the day was through.

 

“I suspect his previous involvement with Logan made it too painful to face for the time being.”

 

“I know.” Ororo agreed, her voice softly sympathetic, respectful to the history she knew the two shared. “I can only imagine what it must feel like to love someone and then to have them forget you.”

 

Beside them, falling into step on Xavier's other side as they ascended into the higher levels of the mansion, Scott's expression noticeably tightened and Storm gave him a somewhat apologetic glance.

 

“I'm sorry Scott...”

 

He cut her off decisively. “Now what professor? Not that I'm exactly eager to have Logan back on the team full time; he's a member of this family.”

 

“Admit it Scott-” Ororo smiled warmly, her tone only gently teasing, “He's grown on you more than ever before in the years past.”

 

“He doesn't have to say it.” Xavier chuckled, “The feeling is mutually shared by all of us. And I intend to continue to do everything within my power to help him. I'm sure I can speak for all of us when I say that.”

 

“You do.” Storm agreed, resting a hand briefly on the telepath's shoulder.

 

“We may have to start considering that this could be all the further he can progress.” Scott said, “Already his progress is nothing short of miraculous. I still don't quite understand it myself professor. If his healing factor was partially responsible for his physical changes than what of the mental changes? He seems to have stayed mostly the same.”

 

“I know.” Xavier agreed, joining them in the elevator to the top floors. “And that Scott is the most frustrating aspect of it all. Physically we have rehabilitated him for the most part. Mentally however I'm concerned we've done next to nothing.”

 

“He is calmer.” Storm said, “More easily approachable.”

 

“I didn't say there wasn't any progress to be had. Merely a fraction compared to his physical stature.”

 

As they left the elevator, Xavier paused and regarded the two X-men on either side of him. “Storm you have a few classes yet to oversee?”

 

“Yes, professor.”

 

“Would you mind spending time with Logan today in the meantime? I'd like to speak to Kurt and Hank about the next steps forward.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“If you need anything professor don't hesitate to ask me.” Scott said.

 

“I won't.”

 

Xavier watched the two of them part ways, leaving him in the hallway momentarily alone with his thoughts. Banner refusing in the end truly hadn't been all that surprising. He suspected the man was on his way to other places unknown now, running from a past he couldn't truly escape from. Xavier himself had been fairly surprised he'd been in the area at all and although that was part of the reason why he'd pursued the man's help in the first place it hadn't been the only one. And he couldn't help but to have hoped.

 

Seeking out with his abilities, he easily found Kurt in the library. He'd been looking for both him and Logan but even the gentlest of telepathic brushes made the feral X-man uncomfortable these days. Especially when he had been entirely regressed into his unsettling primal form. However where Kurt was, if Storm hadn't already retrieved Logan, so too was the other man.

 

Both Kurt and Logan were both sitting by the window when he entered the relatively small library compared to the main one on the second floor, the teleporter glancing up – golden eyes meeting his, tail swishing just a bit. But his expression fell a moment or two later and he let the unspoken observation continue to remain unspoken.

 

“He's been a bit restless today.” the German X-man said instead, looking to Logan – the man in question staring out at the falling snow and the woods beyond, feral eyes a different golden than those of his companion, whose eyes could be called demonic in comparison. Logan's on the other hand seemed to be more like those of a predator. Human but a feral golden.

 

Xavier regarded Logan curiously and watched as another conversation unfolded between the two men in front of him – one side silent, the other verbal.

 

“I know _mien fruend_ but there is nothing to see out there. We've already went for three walks today.” Kurt commiserated gently.

 

Logan sighed softly.

 

“What answers do you think those woods hold, hm?”

 

Xavier wheeled forward just a bit, glancing between Logan and the woods outside. Really it was borderline on supernaturally uncanny how Kurt could hold whole conversations with the man. None of them doubted that he could actually understand him. That was obvious. While the conversations looked one sided they obviously were not. Not by closer observation.

 

Logan let out a huff of something close to annoyance and made a restless motion with his shoulders, slight but distinguishable.

 

“Going for another walk I suspect will not change anything. Besides you know how much I hate the cold.”

 

Logan's expression became human like in guiltiness and he let out a soft huff of what sounded to be apology.

 

“You know I do not mind. Not for you.” Kurt smiled, tail moving from one side to the other in an affectionate way. “I just wish I could ease your mind. Or whatever it is that is bothering you.”

 

“He was like this just this morning as well.” Xavier said, speaking up softly, “Hank had more difficulty than usual with the morning routine.”

 

“He even gave _me_ trouble.” Kurt said, “And he wouldn't eat breakfast.”

 

Concerned now more than ever, Xavier closed the distance between him and the two men sitting at the window. “Logan?” he asked gently, reaching out and putting a hand on his wrist. “Look at me.”

 

'Look at me' to Logan wasn't a direct question. He rarely ever met their eyes and in the language of the animal kingdom that was good. He respected them and anything less would be a challenge. Direct eye contact with Logan was rare and when it happened it was unsettling. More often than not it had happened with Scott but when angered he had thrown up the challenge at nearly everyone else as well over the course of the past two years. But he was getting better. It was another improvement, small but vast, that they had to support their hope for the future. And for Logan's rehabilitation.

 

When he had Logan's attention, granted immediately as the feral turned his gaze from the window, Xavier ever so carefully and gently brushed his mind against Logan's in question – silently asking permission to enter. With Logan especially that was so very important.

 

He felt Logan's mental walls give, just a bit to let Xavier inside, and Xavier sent an appreciative feeling of thank you in return. Touching Logan's mind was always an... experience. There always seemed to be two sides of his brain, distinct and palpable. The animal and the man. And then there was Weapon X. Layers of false memories and feelings that were a maze of pain and suffering and confusion. Fake memories, real memories, fake feelings and real feelings. Logan's mind sometimes made him dizzy and slightly nauseous with the staggering amount of sheer depth.

 

But he wasn't going that far today. For both of them it was a considerable strain to even attempt a few shallow layers. For now he gently moved about the top most layers, moving like a ghost in his carefulness, searching for what Logan couldn't express with words. Which was much these days. But all he felt was restlessness that seemed to have no source. A bit of irritation but Xavier could easily reason himself to be the cause, inside of his mind as he was. He also sensed frustration. Walls. A barrier of some description that Logan felt somewhat trapped against. He wondered if that represented the mansion itself. But for all his telepathic prowess, for all his considerable abilities, Logan's mind remained as it always was. A mystery.

 

He pulled away, as gentle and whisper soft as he was entering as he left, withdrawing his hand on his arm as well. He caught Kurt's questioning look out of the corner of his eye and didn't return it, shaking his head. “I'm not sure. You're right. He is restless. Frustrated... in a way he feels trapped. But I don't know the source or cause of any of these feelings.”

 

“Logan we cannot let you go back out there.” Kurt said, nodding to the window, the frosted glass, and the woods beyond. “You belong here with us. You may not feel that way now but you do. Please trust in that. Have faith.”

 

Logan snorted at that last statement, he usually did, but Kurt didn't take offense – looking up as the door opened and Ororo entered, the weather goddess giving them a questioning look.

 

“Come in, Ororo it's all right.” Xavier motioned towards Logan slightly, “He's having an off day today.”

 

“I noticed.” she smiled gently, “Logan would you like to come with me? My children need attention and I would very much like your assistance. They'd enjoy your company.”

 

Logan looked from her to her offered hand, looking back out the window at the woods beyond.

 

“Go _mien fruend_.” Kurt prompted with a soft smile, “No moping anymore. Go with Ororo.”

 

Xavier and Kurt both watched as Logan sighed and reached up, taking her hand with his own and fluidly standing. Still with an inhuman grace but with an easier one. Something more human. Sometimes he had moments so human it was more shocking than when he didn't anymore. Such a reverse of a decade ago or even just a few years ago.

 

“I'll keep an eye on him professor.” Storm smiled, leading the feral to the door with her. “If you need us you know where we'll be.”

 

Xavier watched them leave, the door shutting behind them quietly. It was Kurt's voice that drew him back.

 

“Professor...?”

 

“What is it Kurt?” he asked, frowning at Kurt's transfixed gaze towards the horizon.

 

“I thought this whole time he was looking at the woods. But maybe he wasn't. Look. At what is just beyond.”

 

Xavier wheeled around so that he could, quickly catching what Kurt meant and feeling a flicker or surprise and something else he couldn't explain, perhaps startled. Just beyond the woods, the outline of trees, was the clear definition of the city – it's skyline barely noticeable through the fog.

 

Sitting back in his wheelchair, Xavier shared a look with Kurt, not knowing exactly what to make of it. But it was interesting. Very interesting indeed.

 

 

Humming to herself quietly, Storm moved through her plants one by one, responding to their specific needs and nurturing their desires for water and attention. Logan watched her just as much as he watched anything else but he wasn't extraordinary impressed. Content would be a better word.

 

Ororo chuckled softly, “Last week you helped me plant this little one here.” she said, reaching out to gently touch a pedal of a particularly striking orchid, “Look how much it's grown since.”

 

Logan regarded it with a somewhat impassive gaze.

 

It wasn't unsettling. She knew he was paying attention and she knew that beneath the animal Logan was still there. They had just yet to find him. Guiding him from that other side would still take time but she was confident that with time he'd return. In many ways he had never left and she took solace from that as well. Her friend and teammate was still there and would always be in some form or another. Even if they didn't reach Logan as they'd known him which she refused to consider.

 

When she looked over her shoulder again she'd lost his attention entirely. He was looking through the skylights at the sky beyond and the sunshine that she'd allowed through the clouds with her abilities for the many plants that populated her bedroom in what was once the attic of the mansion or at least a part of it. “You do seem off today my friend. I just wish I knew in what way. So that I might help.”

 

No answers were entirely forthcoming on that one. She often wondered how Kurt could understand him so well. But then again that was a mystery to all of them.

 

The day passed uneventfully. Ororo took him to her classes but the students often seemed more preoccupied with him than the actual studies. She tolerated it to a certain degree, even with some amount of amusement, but always pulled them back on track. Logan himself seemed neutrally uninterested in whatever was going on around him but that was fairly usual.

 

By mid-afternoon however something wholly unexpected happened.

 

“Hey.” a breathless Bobby, known to those less than family as the Iceman, said as he entered the small kitchen Ororo was fixing up a salad for herself and something to tide Logan over with until dinner. Certainly not a salad.

 

“Bobby?” she asked curiously.

 

The younger man gave a look over at Logan, “The prof wants to speak to you. I can take over here.”

 

“All right.” she agreed, hesitating only a bit but wondering what was going on and what the sense of urgency was. She prayed to the Goddess' above that it wasn't something world ending. “I was just getting him a snack.”

 

Bobby nodded, “Can do. Don't worry I got him.”

 

Relenting, Storm breezed past the younger X-man and to the hallway beyond, wondering what could prompt such a summoning. Xavier himself hadn't contacted her telepathically and that was unusual too.

 

She received her answer the second she stepped into Professor Xavier's office. There sitting across from Kurt on a settee, Xavier in his wheelchair nearby, was a man she had honestly not expected to see. Not after the hope of him returning earlier.

 

“Dr. Banner.”

 

“Ororo.” he returned, a smile coming to his face so typical of the man. Perhaps too typical. The haunted ones where a smile rarely touched his eyes. He did nothing to try and fool people into thinking they were anything more cheerful. While she suspected he had been at one point in his life, that man was perhaps decades deceased. Quite literally.

 

“Bruce.” she relaxed with a smile, pushing aside her shock and focusing instead on the friend before her – a friend she hadn't seen in quite some time. “It's been far too long.”

 

Bruce moved just a bit to give her some space as she sat down, smiling a bit more and nodding in agreement. “It has.”

 

“We were just filling Dr. Banner in on Logan's condition.” Xavier said.

 

“I see. Than you're aware of our hope that you may be able to aid his memory and that perhaps it may help in his rehabilitation?” Storm asked the scientist beside her.

 

“Yes.” Bruce said, resting his hands on his knees, “But you have to agree with me when I say it's a long shot.”

 

“We all know that.” Kurt agreed, “But if there is any hope...”

 

Bruce smiled a quick, small smile. “I guess that's why I'm here then.”

 

“If you're ready, I'll have Kurt and I take you to him.”

 

All Bruce did was nod and Kurt gave Storm a smile. “We are relieving you of Logan duty I suppose _mien fraulien_.”

 

“Thank you for watching him today, Ororo.”

 

“It's all right professor. It was my pleasure.” Storm smiled, briefly resting a hand on Bruce's arm, “Good luck. And thank you for coming at least to try.”

 

Bruce just noddedand that was how she left them, hoping beyond anything that this could be an answer, a helping hand in her friend's rehabilitation. Or at least something similar. Was it too much to hope that separated lovers could find some sort of healing? Bonding? She hoped not.

 

TBC


End file.
